Monday, August 30, 2010


Her name was Gwen
She was black and white
She would look at me
In devilish delight
As the little ‘milk-maid’
Would splash and slide
Through grass and weeds
And fresh-made ‘pies’
And nothing in the world
Would alter her gait
As she looked back and laughed
At the little milk-maid

Co’ boss, co’ boss,
The sing-song plea
Seemed to be lost
On ‘her royalty’
In rubber farm-boots
Two sizes too small
The milk-maid would beg
And the milk-maid would call
Co’ boss, co’ boss
Won’t you hurry please?
With a toss of her head
Gwen would pause ‘neath the trees

They say there’s one
In every crowd
And Gwen took the blame
Standing tall and proud
A yell and a poke
And a slap on the rump
Didn’t even make
Her ‘royalty’ jump
Through the gate at last
Prodded into place
Gwen lifted her tail
And slapped my face

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

It is very hot and humid today.
I was telling the kids what it
Used to be like in this weather
At milking time….
….and a flood of memories rolled over me!

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